


take care of those you call your own

by lifewasinruin (hma1313)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 5 Things, Alpha Brian, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Beta Freddie Mercury, Comfort, Comfort Knotting, Early Queen (Band), Falling In Love, Getting Together, Intimacy, Knotting, Lack of Communication, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega John Deacon, Omega Roger Taylor (Queen), Period Typical Attitudes, Prompt Fill, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hma1313/pseuds/lifewasinruin
Summary: “Have you heard of comfort knotting?”Brian very nearly drops his pint glass. “What?”“Comfort knotting. Like when an alpha knots an alpha but it’s not sexual, it’s just… comforting? The alpha doesn’t come, just knots. I’m not explaining this very well, am I?” Roger trails off, staring at the table, the wall, anywhere that’s not at Brian. Fuck, this was a bad idea.When Brian agrees to comfort knot Roger, it seems like a good idea at the time. He's just helping a friend out, after all. They're not supposed to catch feelings. They're not supposed to fall in love.Or: the five times they don’t tell each other how they feel, and the one time they do.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	take care of those you call your own

**Author's Note:**

> Fell down the Queen rabbit hole and somehow ended up here? It’s my first time writing for bandom in years (the last time was pre-Ao3 days) and honestly, writing this has felt like a very long overdue homecoming. 
> 
> This started life as a headcanon I saw on a discord server that went ‘what if knotting was a common place as cuddling?’. I’ve flipped it a bit since that initial post, but the essence is still the same. 
> 
> Title from Good Company by Queen.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

**i.**

When Roger joins Smile, he doesn’t quite know what to make of Brian at first. Brian, a quiet, well-spoken astrophysics student. An alpha, although he’s so far from the big, brash stereotypes of Hollywood it’s almost unbelievable. Roger is sure that he could listen to Brian talk all day his voice is that soothing. That comforting.

It’s when they’re in rehearsals and Brian is explaining something about this new song he’s been working on that the thought wanders in Roger’s head. _I wonder what his knot feels like._ Roger pushes the thought away as soon as it arrives, but that only really makes him think about it more, and now he can feel himself getting aroused, which, honestly, not the time.

He can’t have sex with Brian. Can he? Roger shuffles on the drum stool, really paying no attention to what Brian is saying anymore. He can’t. It’s Brian. That would be… weird. Disrupt the balance of the band or something. Tim had been hesitant to let Roger in as it is. He definitely wouldn’t react well if Roger started sleeping with Brian. He can hear the comments now. _Stupid omega slut, couldn_ _’t even be in a band five minutes before falling for the guitarist._

So Roger can’t sleep with him.

But there is something else.

Roger has never done it before. It’s something he’s only heard of mostly from other omegas at school. He remembers one his classmates whispering about how they’d got their boyfriend to comfort knot them the previous night, and Roger had been confused and also intrigued.

“What does that mean?”

“They knot you, but they don’t come,” his classmate replied. “It feels really nice, really safe. It doesn’t even have to be with someone you’re in a relationship with either.”

It’ll require some thought, some planning. He can’t just spring it on Brian out of the blue, that’s just guaranteed to have everything backfire. It won’t be easy. It’s not something generally done nowadays, never mind spoken about, at least not in polite conversation. But maybe, just maybe, Roger will get to feel what Brian’s knot feels like after all.

“You got that, Rog?” Brian asks.

“Hmm?” Brian and Tim are both looking at him expectantly. He’s got no idea about anything either of them has said in the past few minutes. “Oh. Can you go over it again?”

“Sure,” Brian says with a smile. Tim rolls his eyes. Roger ignores that.

* * *

Roger debates about his plan for weeks before anything happens. He sleeps with a load of alphas, in the vague hope it’ll push all thoughts of Brian from his head. It doesn’t work. Brian invades his thoughts, his mind, his dreams, so on a Tuesday evening after band practice when Tim has work, Roger takes Brian to the pub and buys him a pint. Maybe it’ll have to be two, depending on how the conversation goes. Or more.

“What’s this about?” Brian asks as Roger sits them down in a secluded corner of the pub. He’s seen several alphas giving him appreciative glances already, and on a normal night Roger would smile, flirt back, and probably go home with one of them at the end of the night, but this isn’t about that. This is about Brian.

“Um.” Roger distracts himself by taking a long drink of his pint. God, what is he thinking? This is a terrible idea. A bad, bad move. Brian is never going to say yes.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ve got some studying that I need to do -”

“No!” Roger says. Brian looks surprised at the outburst. “No, I - fuck.” This sounded so much better when he rehearsed it in his head. It’s proving to be a lot harder now he’s here, sitting across the table from Brian. “Have you heard of comfort knotting?”

Brian very nearly drops his pint glass. “What?”

“Comfort knotting. Like when an alpha knots an alpha but it’s not sexual, it’s just… comforting? The alpha doesn’t come, just knots. I’m not explaining this very well, am I?” Roger trails off, staring at the table, the wall, anywhere that’s not at Brian. Fuck, this was a bad idea.

“I’ve heard of it,” Brian says quietly. Roger forces himself to meet his gaze, and Brian is looking very confused. “But I don’t know why you’ve brought it up.”

“Would you ever do it?”

Brian takes a moment before responding. “I don’t know, maybe.”

That’s good enough for Roger. He’s on this road now, he might as well continue. He takes a deep breath and looks at Brian right in the eyes. “What about with me?”

“Fuck, Roger, I…” Brian looks kind of uncomfortable. Roger tries not to panic. “Why do you ask?”

“Why do you think?”

“Oh,” Brian says. “Oh.”

There’s a silence. They both look at each other for a few moments, but neither of them knows what to say. Roger is about to say something, like forget it, I was just joking, I’m sorry, want another drink, but Brian is the one that opens his mouth first.

“I’m not… entirely opposed to the idea,” Brian says. “But I’d want to do some research first. Don’t want to accidentally knock you up or anything.”

“I’m on suppressants,” Roger says. Roger might well love sex, but he hates heats. He went on suppressants the first chance he got and only comes off them for the obligatory period once a year where he checks into a heat hotel for the week and hates himself the entire time, hates the feeling of needing an alpha so badly.

“Still.”

Roger nods. He knows what Brian means. Still, though, it’s progress. It’s good news. He feels rather relieved. “Want another drink?”

“Please.”

* * *

They don’t talk about it for another couple of weeks. Even though Brian has basically said yes, Roger still isn’t entirely sure how to go about the whole, _I_ _’m feeling kind of down, can I sit on your knot?_ conversation.

Roger gets to band practice a few minutes early on Friday. Tim isn’t here yet, and Brian has his nose stuck in a book. He goes to shove it in his bag when the door opens, but when he sees that it’s Roger walking through the door, he relaxes and takes the book out again.

“What’s that?” Roger asks as he dumps his bag near the window and takes out his drumsticks. Brian holds up the book, and Roger squints at the gold lettering on the faded brown cover. _A History of Knotting Through the Ages._ Roger smirks. “You really meant it when you said you were going to research, huh?”

“The look I got from the librarian, I swear,” Brian says with a chuckle. “Felt like I was going to be put on a register somewhere. It’s very interesting, though. There’s a whole section on the history of comfort knotting and how it’s relaxing for both parties, and can even be beneficial for levelling out moods and so on.”

“Maybe we’ll have to conduct our own studies,” Roger says. He sits down on the drum stool and starts adjusting things, making sure everything is the right height and the drums are in tune. He doesn’t miss the blush that spreads across Brian’s cheeks.

“Um, Rog?”

“Yeah?”

“How will I know when you want to…?”

“I’ll tell you,” Roger says with a shrug. He will. It’s got to happen one day soon, wanting the touch of an alpha but knowing that regular sex isn’t going to cut it. “Although if you say no I won’t get offended.”

“Alright then.”

* * *

They play a gig in east London next week, and the crowd are far from the best they’ve ever had. There’s a group of alphas around the bar that keep hurling abuse at Roger, for no other reason than he’s there and he’s an omega. It doesn’t get to him usually, the _who let the omega play the drums?_ comments, but the bar they’re playing in has a vibe that sets him on edge the moment he walks through the door. He’s the only omega here apart from the two girls serving on the bar, and he feels very out of place.

Roger packs up his things as quickly as he can when the show is over, immediately retreating to the van. They usually stick around for a pint afterwards, talk to some of the crowd, but Roger really can’t think of anything worse tonight. He sits down on the back of the van and wipes at the tears that have been threatening to fall all night.

“Pull yourself together, Taylor,” he mutters to himself as he sees Brian making his way down the street to the van. He sits up and plasters a smile onto his face, but Brian sees right through him.

“You alright?” Brian asks as he slides his guitar case into the van next to Roger’s drums.

“Fucking wankers,” Roger mutters. “We’re not playing here again.”

“No, we’re not.” Brian sits down next to Roger. “You’re a good drummer, Rog. Don’t listen to them.”

“Easy for you to say.” Brian doesn’t get it, doesn’t know what it’s like to have all of society stacked against you. “Where’s Tim?”

“Got talking to one of the girls on the bar,” Brian says. “Don’t think he’ll be joining us. You want to go home?”

“Bri,” Roger says slowly, turning to look at his bandmate, “can we go to yours?”

He sees the realisation dawn on Brian’s face, the realisation of what he’s implying. Brian smiles. “Of course.”

* * *

Brian’s flat is small, but it’s better than Roger’s room in university halls. There are no annoying people on the corridor that don’t do their washing up and judge Roger for bringing so many alphas back. Brian’s flat is all his, so there’s no chance of them getting interrupted, or flatmates banging on the wall telling them to keep it down.

Roger has been to Brian’s flat a few times before, and although it looks the same as the last time he was here, it feels very different. Like the reality of what they’re about to do is hanging over the flat like a cloud. Roger knows that there’ll be no going back from this, that it’s going to tip the balance of their relationship forever, and although he feels kind of nervous about the prospect, he’s also kind of excited as well.

“You want a drink or anything?” Brian asks. Roger shakes his head. He may be excited, but he also wants it to just happen now, thank you. “Alright. How do you want to do this, then?”

The sofa is the logical option. The bedroom has other connotations, but Roger also doesn’t want to go home tonight, so the bedroom it is.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“I’m not going to kick you out,” Brian says with a kind smile. He takes a few steps forward and opens his arms. Roger falls against his chest, and Brian smells so good, so comforting, so safe, that he almost thinks that this might be enough on its own anyway. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No, I want to,” Roger says. He bites his lip and looks towards Brian’s bedroom door. He’s never felt so nervous about going into someone’s bedroom before. “Shall we?”

In the bedroom, Roger shuffles out of his jeans and socks and lies down on the bed in his t-shirt and underwear. The sheets smell like Brian, he realises. He could breathe in the scent all day.

Brian strips down similarly and lies down next to Roger. The big light is off, the room only lit by a lone lamp on Brian’s bedside table. There’s a collection of books on his dresser, including, Roger notes, the library copy of _A History of Knotting Through the Ages._

“So according to what I’ve read -”

“Jesus, Bri, would you just get on with it?” Roger pushes down his own underwear impatiently, reaching behind himself to check how wet he is. Plenty, as it turns out. Satisfied, he turns to Brian, who has also taken off his underwear and has started to jerk himself off slowly. Roger watches, sternly reminding himself that this is just a friend helping him out, and not another notch on his bedpost. Even with all the alphas Roger has been with, Brian is definitely going to be up there with the biggest.

Roger fingers himself to the same rhythm that Brian is jerking off. He can see the start of the swell of the knot at the base of Brian’s dick, and anticipation thrums in his veins.

“You ready?” Brian asks. It’s all Roger can to do nod. “Words, Rog.”

“Yeah.” Roger turns over so his arse is facing Brian. He feels Brian’s fingers ghosting over his hole, before entering. He bites back a moan. “Please, Bri.”

Brian removes his fingers, and then Roger feels the head of his dick slowly pushing into his hole. As soon as he’s all the way in, his knot swells, and that’s it. Roger feels so full, so happy, so content. He can’t believe they haven’t done this sooner. He was right about Brian being up there.

“You good?”

“So good.” Roger lets out a contented sigh. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Brian reaches around and pulls a blanket over them. Roger snuggles down. He hasn’t felt this good in a long, long time. “Night, Rog.”

“Night.”

* * *

**ii.**

Following the first instance after the gig in east London, Brian comfort knots Roger on something that’s becoming scarily like a regular basis. He’s lost count of the number of times Roger has turned up as his door with that look on his face and Brian has been unable to do anything but let him in.

When Tim announces he’s leaving Smile, Brian doesn’t even need to look at Roger to know he’s going to end up with his bandmate in his bed tonight. He’s getting good at telling. It’s in the looks Roger gives him and the way he shuffles closer or the way he just says, “Bri.”

“Oh, by the way,” Tim says as he turns to leave, “I know you’ve been sleeping together.”

There’s a lot in Tim’s tone of voice that goes unsaid. Roger opens his mouth, probably to say something like “We’re not,” but he closes it again. Brian doesn’t say anything either. Tim’s leaving, it’s not like it matters anymore. He can think what he likes.

When they’re back at Brian’s, Roger curls up the sofa, picking at his nails, looking deep in thought.

“What’s the matter?” Brian asks, sitting down next to him.

“Nothing,” Roger mutters. “Well. It’s what Tim said.”

“What about it?”

“That he knows we’ve been sleeping together. Which we technically haven’t, but we’ve been close enough for our scents to mix and I… I don’t know.”

“We can stop.”

Roger seems to ignore that comment. “It’s not just him either. I’ve had other alphas comment stuff like ‘does your boyfriend know you’re cheating on him?’ or saying that I’m very bold for going out to get laid when I’ve clearly got an alpha waiting for me at home.”

“Well, like I said, we can -”

“I don’t want to stop,” Roger says, looking up sharply. “That’s the last thing I want. Sometimes it feels like this is the only thing that’s keeping me grounded, you know?”

Brian nods. He does know. As much as the sessions are about Roger, he’s also found a source of comfort and peace in them as well.

“Maybe I’ll just buy some scent blocking soap or something,” Roger says. He shuffles closer to Brian on the sofa until their thighs are pressing together. Their scents have mixed, Brian realises. He’s never really noticed it before. It’s only faint, like a perfume fading as the day goes on, but it’s there. Roger smells like him. It makes Brian’s alpha preen. “What’s going to happen now?”

“I’ll knot you if you want.”

“I meant with the band.”

“Oh.” Brian pauses. “Guess we’ll have to find someone else.”

“Yeah.” Roger lets out a sigh. “I don’t want this to be the end, Bri. Of anything.”

He looks up at Brian with a cheeky smile on his lips and starts undoing his belt.

“Come here, then,” Brian says.

Roger does just that.

* * *

‘Someone else’ comes in the form of Freddie, who’s been at a lot of Smile gigs in the past. He’s got an amazing voice, but he doesn’t play bass. He’s a beta, although a kind of effeminate one, but they’re already two people that don’t quite fit into society’s expectations anyway, so that doesn’t matter at all. Being a beta means he has a lessened sense of smell, so he can’t pick up on the fact that Brian and Roger are far closer than they claim to be.

Finding a bassist proves difficult. There’s the alpha that hits on Roger within thirty seconds of walking through the door, another that refuses to take any direction from Roger and only listens to Brian. There’s the one that can’t play half as good as he claims, more that just don’t fit the vibe of the band.

Then they find John.

John, unlike everyone else they’ve tried so far, is an omega. He’s quiet, an electrical engineering student, and fits into the band perfectly. He’s the missing piece.

Brian and John are both living alone and Freddie and Roger are living together when Freddie suggests that they all move in together. Finding a flat and splitting the rent four ways makes sense, so they start looking for somewhere suitable. They eventually find a place that’s in all of their price ranges and an at least semi-decent location. It only has two bedrooms, but they’re both spacious enough for two beds. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’ll do the job.

“I’m sharing with Brian,” is the first thing Roger says when they move in. They haven’t sorted any of the sleeping arrangements out yet, too busy sorting out the paperwork and packing everything up at their old places.

Freddie looks surprised. John doesn’t, although Brian tries not to think about that too hard.

“Really?” Freddie asks.

“Yeah,” Roger says with a shrug. He’s trying to come across not that bothered about the situation, but Brian knows Roger is bothered. It’ll make for some very awkward conversations otherwise, which he’s sure they both want to avoid. Not that they’ve got anything to hide, necessarily, but it does make things easier. “Why not?”

* * *

“I knew there were ulterior motives when you said you wanted to share a room with me,” Brian mumbles as Roger crawls into his bed, already pulling the hem of the shirt he’s wearing as a nightie up and pushing Brian’s pyjama trousers down. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” Roger says. He gives Brian’s cock a few strokes, slowly bringing him to full hardness. “Need you in me.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Mine are still packed. Hurry up, will you?”

Brian obliges, inserting a first experimental finger into Roger. He’s plenty wet already, so he quickly adds a second, and then a third. He jerks himself off as fast as he can, then, just as he can feel his knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock, he thrusts into Roger, locking them together. Roger lets out a quiet moan as Brian’s knot swells, and it’s such a pretty sound, one that Brian really wouldn’t mind hearing more of. “That better?”

“God, yes.”

They fall asleep like that, all tangled up in Brian’s bed, scents mingling into one.

* * *

Roger doesn’t seem to use his bed much.

It’s there, always made, even if it’s somewhat scruffy looking. It’s there, and while he keeps up pretences by sleeping in it in a few times a week, more than half the time he’ll end up in Brian’s.

Brian’s noticed, of course. He seems to have become even more convenient than ever before, and he’s not entirely sure how he feels about that. He likes helping Roger, of course he does, but it always makes him feel a bit weird when Roger comes in from a one night stand, the scent of some other alpha clinging to his skin, and after showering will promptly get into Brian’s bed instead of his own. It’s always weirdly satisfying in a way, that even though Roger sleeps with so many people, it’s Brian’s bed he ends up in at the end of the night.

Tonight is no different. They’ve played a gig in a student club somewhere, and Roger swans off with some tall female alpha at the first chance he gets. Brian goes home, alone, and lies in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what Roger is doing, and when he’s going to be back.

Sometimes, he wonders if he will ever be enough for Roger.

Freddie and John get back at around midnight, and then at one am when Brian is fighting to keep his eyes open, there’s the scrape of the key in the lock, signalling Roger’s return. Brian hears the bathroom light being flicked on, then the shower running.

Roger enters their room about ten minutes later. He pulls on one of Brian’s shirts and then gets into bed. He shuffles close to Brian, who sees the dried tear tracks in the light of the moon.

“What’s the matter?” he asks quietly.

Roger sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t nice.”

“She didn’t -” Brian is horrified at the thought. It may be one am, but he’s ready to kick her into next week, or off a bridge into the Thames, or the planet, _something._

“God, no, not that,” Roger says. “She just… her kinks were not my kinks, shall we say.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright.” There’s a pause. “So I presume since you’re in my bed…?”

“God, yes, do I even have to ask at this point?”

“No.” Brian slowly reaches down and slips his fingers into Roger. He tries not to think about the girl from earlier, who didn’t treat Roger with the respect he deserves. Roger instantly relaxes into his touch, pushing back against his fingers, letting out little whimpers into the pillow.

It’s times like these that Brian has to be strict with himself and remind himself that it’s not sexual. But there’s always something, in the stupid primal alpha part of his brain, that preens at the thought of him being the one that Roger rushes to when things go wrong. How Roger always feels safe in his arms.

Roger sighs contentedly when Brian’s knot swells and locks them together. He takes Brian’s hand and holds it around his chest so they’re spooning properly. That’s how they fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, again.

* * *

Roger’s heats are always a bone of contention between them.

Once a year, usually sometime around July, Roger comes off his suppressants to allow his body to go into heat. He disappears for a week, either to heat hotel if money allows it, or if not, back to Truro to stay with his mum. His heats are a mostly unspoken thing, wherein Roger doesn’t like talking about them and Brian knows not to push it too much. He goes away for a week, then comes back and crawls into Brian’s bed again as though nothing has happened at all.

It conflicts Brian somewhat. He wants to help, but Roger is extremely reluctant to accept it and he doesn’t want to push Roger into anything he’s not comfortable with. It feels weird how Roger is quite happy to have Brian’s knot in him every other day of the year but when his body needs it most he refuses. Once again, it makes Brian wonder if he’ll ever be enough.

It’s late June. A heatwave has taken over most of London and the south of England, temperatures soaring into the high twenties and early thirties every single day. The grass is a dry brown, windows are thrown open in the hope of tempting in a mostly nonexistent breeze, the shower is constantly set to cold.

Roger is flaked across Brian’s bed, wearing nothing but boxers and one of Brian’s shirts, mostly unbuttoned. His suppressants are on the bedside table, and Brian can’t help but notice that the packet is getting empty. That means one thing: Roger’s heat will be soon.

“It’s too fucking hot,” Roger whines. He rolls over and looks at Brian, who’s sat up against the headboard with one of his textbooks rested on his lap. “How the fuck are you even concentrating on that?”

“I’m not,” Brian says. He’s reread the same sentence about five times in the past three minutes alone, and he’s no closer to understanding now than he was the first time he read it. He sighs and closes the book, leaning over Roger to place it on the bedside table. His gaze falls on Roger’s suppressants, and before he loses his nerve, he says, “So your heat’s soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Roger says with a kind of resound sigh; like he knows what’s coming next.

“You know, I could always help -”

“We’re not having this conversation again,” Roger snaps. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“I just thought -”

“Well, don’t.” Roger gets up and goes and lies down on his bed instead, taking off Brian’s shirt and throwing it on the floor in the process. “Fucking forget about it, Bri.”

“Sorry,” Brian says. He should know better by now than to bring it up. There’s no one to blame here but himself. It hurts, though. He feels like a shit alpha, and he wonders if Roger will ever accept his offer for helping during his heats.

It’s the first time in weeks that Roger sleeps in his own bed.

* * *

Roger goes away for his heat, and Brian spends the week doing anything he can to distract himself from thoughts about what Roger is getting up to in his hotel room by himself. There’s an uneasy air in the flat, which John, like Brian, refuses to acknowledge, and Freddie tries his best to dissipate but doesn’t really succeed. It’s always odd when Roger goes away for his heats. It’s like the balance in the flat is tipped completely. It’s not like this when John has his heats, or when Brian has his ruts.

The bedroom - or perhaps more accurately, the bed - feels empty without Roger there. As much as he hates to admit it, Brian has grown accustomed to having Roger in his bed most nights, so it feels sort of wrong when he’s not there. The bed feels too big, too cold, too empty.

Brian never sleeps well when Roger is away for his heats.

Roger swans back into the flat late on Monday afternoon when John is visiting Veronica and Freddie is out with friends. Roger walks in, looking tired and fucked out, even with his shades on.

“Hey,” he says with a yawn, dumping his bag next to the washer to be dealt with as soon as possible. He takes off his sunglasses, wiping at his eyes. “Where is everyone?”

“Out,” Brian replies. He’s sat on the sofa, staring very hard at the book he’s been reading all afternoon. He wants to ask how it was, but he knows he can’t. Not really. Instead, he settles for a generic, “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Roger kicks off his shoes and makes a beeline for Brian, collapsing next to him on the sofa. He still smells ever so slightly like heat, the sweet edge to his normal scent oh so tantalising. It’s faint, and most people wouldn’t be able to tell, but because they know each other so well it’s obvious to Brian. Roger wheedles his way under Brian’s arm so he’s leaning on his chest. “Missed you.”

“Did you now.” Brian tries to sound not bothered, but there’s a pleased sort of hum in his chest. Roger missed him.

“Mh-hmm.” Roger takes the book out of Brian’s hand and puts in on the floor, so he can lie down across Brian’s lap. Blue eyes look up at him, and Brian thinks that there’s a song there, maybe.

Roger stays still for a moment, just lying there on Brian’s lap. Brian lets himself touch, running his fingers through Roger’s hair. He gently eases out some of the knots, and Roger sighs contentedly as he does so, closing his eyes and relaxing.

“When will Fred and Deaky be back?” Roger asks.

“Not for a while yet,” Brian replies. “Deaky’s spending the night at Veronica’s and Freddie just said he was going out with friends, so who knows when he’ll be back.”

“That’s good.”

“Why?”

“I want a bath.”

“Well it hasn’t moved,” Brian says, and Roger just gives him a look, like he really should know better by now.

“Yeah, but I want you to…” Roger trails off, looking away. “I want you to help.”

“Help?” Brian’s voice sounds kind of high, kind of strangled. He’s not sure about that. Help? What does that even mean? “What does that… entail?”

“It’s a bath, use your imagination.”

“Yeah, but it’s a bit…” close. That’s dating territory, that. Mating, even. It’s not something that two people who comfort knot occasionally really do. It’s a different kind of intimacy, and even though Brian knows the lines are a bit blurred already, this is another tipping point.

“You were the one that said you wanted to help with my heat,” Roger says, now sounding irritated, put-out, angry. “And now I’m asking for help and you won’t give it to me.”

“I didn’t say that; don’t put words in my mouth,” Brian says. There’s a pause, where they both just look at each other for a moment. Brian really could get lost in those eyes. God, he is so weak when it comes to Roger. “Alright then.”

Roger’s face lights up. “Really?”

“Yes,” Brian says. He’s had his knot in Roger countless times, he can deal with washing his hair. Hopefully. “Come on, then.”

In the bathroom, Brian runs the bath, the room quickly filling with steam. It’s too hot a day for this really, but it’s what Roger wants, so it’s what Roger will get. Roger produces a bottle of bath salts from the bathroom cabinet and shakes some into the water, filling the air with a soft lavender scent. Roger strips and gets into the water. He lets out a pleased sound, then looks expectantly at Brian.

“What?” Brian asks.

“You’re still dressed.”

“So?”

“Can’t get in the bath if you’re dressed, Bri.”

Brian gapes at Roger for a moment before pulling his t-shirt over his head. He didn’t agree to this, but he’d give Roger the moon and stars if he asked for them right now.

Once he’s in the bath, Roger sits in between his legs and leans against his chest. He smells even better like this, close to Brian, and Brian has one thing on his mind.

“Can I scent you?” he asks. Roger doesn’t even react further than nodding. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Roger moves his hair so it’s all over one shoulder and Brian has access to his scent glands. Brian presses gentle kisses across them, losing himself in Roger’s scent. It’s not often that he gets to scent him, and especially not like this when Roger isn’t on suppressants and everything is just him.

“Hmm, Bri?”

“Yeah?”

“Knot me.”

“Now?” They haven’t even done any of the things they got in the bath for. Roger’s hair isn’t even wet, never mind washed, and the bar of soap lies untouched on the corner of the bath.

“Please,” Roger says, and Brian is a weak, weak man. He reaches down below the water to find Roger’s hole, who bites his lips to hold back a whine as Brian’s fingers brush over his entrance. He goes slow, steady, gently stretching Roger open. It feels slightly odd, with the bathwater gentle lapping all around them, but it’s a nice different, one that Brian could very easily get used to.

As Brian’s knot swells and locks them together, and as Roger leans back against him, eyes closed and smiling all content, Brian yet again thinks that it could just like this, always. And oh god, he is so, so fucked.

* * *

**iii.**

“Hey, Rog, have you seen - bloody hell, sorry!”

John retreats from Roger and Brian’s room as quickly as he entered it, walking back into the living room feeling rather dazed. It’s ten to ten on a Monday morning, and he was not expecting to see that when he walked into their room. He only wanted to ask where Roger had seen his lighter, he wasn’t expecting to walk in and see them fucking. Or at least he presumes that was what was going on. He can’t think of any other reason Brian would have his dick up their band mate’s arse. It does make sense in a way; John has noticed that their scents always linger on each other. He had put that down to them sharing a room and just generally always being together, but evidently, it’s a bit more than that.

There’s some scuffling behind Roger and Brian’s door, and what distinctly sounds like a whispered argument. After a moment, Roger appears, now thankfully dressed. Although John is ninety per cent sure that the shirt is Brian’s, but that seems a bit by the by now.

“I thought something was going on, you know,” John says quietly before Roger can get a chance to speak. “You always smell like each other.”

“It’s not - god, John, I’m sorry,” Roger says. “Can you let me explain?”

John just shrugs. Roger takes this as a cue to carry on.

“It’s not - we’re not together,” Roger starts. “We’re not even fucking, not really.”

John doesn’t even try to stop the scoff that comes out of his mouth. “I thought you were meant to be a biology student, Rog.”

“Will you let me finish? He just knots me, that’s it. It’s a comfort thing. I’m not even hard half the time. There’s nothing sexual about it.”

“You… he comfort knots you?” John has always been kind of sceptical about the practice. He’s heard of it, of course he has, although that had mostly been whispers in dark corners from other omegas who were, as his mother put it, loose. _You don_ _’t want to be like that,_ she’d told him once. _No one respectable ever sits on the knot of someone who_ _’s not their mate._

“Yes.” Roger’s smiling now, obviously pleased that John seems to understand. “Don’t you ever do it with Ronnie?”

“No,” John says. He and Ronnie are kind of traditional, as these things go, but not that traditional. They’ve never even brought it up.

“Not even when you’ve had a really bad day or whatever?”

“No, Rog.” There’s a pause. He looks at the clock that reads nearly ten. “Why now, though?”

Roger frowns. “What do you mean?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“So…?”

“So you must be having a really bad day to be having him knot you this early.”

“Oh.” Roger bites his lip. “I was worried about band practice?”

“Bullshit,” John says, because really, that’s got to be one of the worst excuses he’s ever heard, and oh, _oh._ “You like him.”

“No, I don’t!” Roger answers far too quickly, his cheeks flaming. “Well, I - I don’t know.”

Roger sits down on the sofa, curling up with his arms around his knees. He looks small, vulnerable, and John’s never really looked at Roger and gone _yeah, definitely looks like an omega,_ but now he does.

“Rog…”

“I’m fine, Deaky.” Roger wipes at the tears welling in his eyes. He puts on a brave smile, but John sees right through it. He sits down next to Roger, curling up in a similar position. They don’t do this a lot, have time together, just the two of them. Freddie’s always swanning around or Roger will disappear into his and Brian’s room. “Really, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” John reaches for his cigarettes, before remembering he still hasn’t found his lighter. “How long has it been going on?”

“Since ‘68,” Roger mumbles, and god, no wonder he’s a mess.

“Jesus,” John says. “Guess you weren’t planning on catching feelings, though?”

“It was only meant to be a friend helping me out,” Roger says. “But now nothing compares to how I feel when I’m with him and I don’t know what to do, Deaks.”

John knows that feeling. He never thought he’d experience it, but then he met Veronica. The feeling of safeness and comfort that only comes with an alpha you’re close to and compatible with. “Do you know if he feels the same way?”

“He wants to help with my heats,” Roger says. “But I don’t know if that’s out of obligation or if he actually, you know, wants to.”

“Well that’s not insignificant,” John replies. “And obliviously you know him better than I do, but I don’t think he’d offer unless he meant it.”

“Yeah, that’s what scares me.” Roger’s voice sounds so small, so unlike Roger, that it makes John’s heartbreak. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that level of commitment.”

“That’s alright.” It’s a big deal, spending a heat with someone. John will never forget how nervous he was before he spent his first heat together with Veronica. It was a big deal, knowing that he was going to spend the next few days submitting to her every will, that they were going to get to know each other in all sorts of intimate ways John couldn’t even imagine. It does surprise him that Roger feels like that, though. Roger who sleeps with anyone that’ll give him a second glance and doesn’t finish a gig without at least flirting with some alpha in the crowd. He wonders what Brian thinks about that. “You’re entitled to do things at your own pace.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to wait?”

“He’s waited since ‘68, Rog, I’d wager he can wait a little longer.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Roger’s lips on that, and, as if on cue, their bedroom door creaks open and Brian appears. He stands in the doorway for a few moments, hovering awkwardly, before he speaks.

“You alright?” he asks, and John knows from the tone of voice and the way he’s looking at Roger that he’s only directing the question at one of them. Roger nods, and Brian visibly relaxes. Then, almost as an afterthought: “Sorry, John.”

“It’s fine.” He might not have been expecting to see it, but he’ll live. They’re a rock and roll band, after all, he’s sure he’ll see far worse by the time they’re done.

“Good,” Brian says, and then he comes over and sits down on the sofa. After a moment of hesitation and a worried glance at John, Roger moves so he’s sat on Brian’s lap, curled up against his chest. He buries his nose into Brian’s neck, breathing deeply at his scent glands, then relaxes. They’re both such idiots. If they’re scenting each other, it’s not platonic.

John catches Roger’s eye. “He likes you,” he mouths.

He gets a secretive kind of smile in response.

* * *

**iv.**

Freddie gets home early and gets the shock of his life.

“I’m back, darlings!” he calls as he walks through the door, tangling with his keys and the shopping bags. He hears Roger swear, and as Freddie walks into the living room, he sees why.

Roger is sitting on Brian’s lap. That’s not entirely unusual, they’re good friends and Roger seems to like being near Brian at every chance he gets. It’s more how he’s sitting on Brian’s lap that has Freddie dropping the shopping and has the apples rolling across the floor.

Roger is hastily arranging a blanket, but the damage is done. Freddie can see Roger’s exposed thighs, and Brian’s, and it doesn’t take an astrophysics degree to work out that he’s walked in on them fucking. Which, okay, that’s new. He knows they’re close but he didn’t think they were that close.

“I thought we said no sex in the communal areas?” Freddie asks after regaining his composure. It’s a rule that mostly came about after Freddie walked in on Roger getting fingered by a female alpha he’d met at a bar, but Freddie never expected to be recounting the rule in this situation. They’re Brian and Roger, for god’s sake. They’re the best friends that bicker at the smallest of things, not Brian and Roger who sleep together.

It takes Roger a moment to respond. He turns around and exchanges a look with Brian, which seems to hold an entire conversation in its briefness, who nods. “We’re not having sex.”

“Well unless I’m very much mistaken Brian’s dick is very much up your arse, my dear, what else are we calling that?”

“It’s not like that!” Roger says.

Freddie resists the urge to roll his eyes. “No? What is it like, then?”

“It’s just comfort,” Brian says, running a hand through Roger’s hair. “Roger had a bad day.”

Oh. _Oh._ Well then. That’s... it’s not something that happens a lot nowadays, an alpha offering up their knot just for the sake of comfort, not sexual pleasure. It would happen between anyone, not necessarily those that were mated or in any kind of relationship. It’s not common at all nowadays, mostly resigned to old novels and stories passed down the generations. It’s not something generally accepted in modern society. Something to do with infidelity, Freddie thinks. Or it occasionally being used as a means of taking advantage.

This, though, it isn’t any of that. Roger looks relaxed, leaning back against Brian’s chest. It’s just comfort. That’s it.

“I thought people didn’t do that anymore?”

“They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” Roger says, shifting slightly and letting out a contented sigh. “It feels wonderful.”

Freddie thinks back, to all the times Roger would disappear round to Brian’s whenever he was in a bad mood, to how, when they all moved in together, Roger insisted that he and Brian would share a room. Freddie thought it was a bit weird at the time, surely Roger would be more comfortable sharing with John, another omega, or even himself, a beta, not Brian, an alpha. At the time, he put it down to them being friends, that they’d known each other the longest, and didn’t think much more about it. Until now.

“This has been going on a while.” It’s a statement, not a question. They both nod. “How long?”

“Um, however long I’ve known Bri, minus about three months?”

“Jesus,” Freddie says. That’s the best part of four years. “But you’re not together?”

“No.”

“Why not?” It feels like a valid question. There must be something there, surely, after all this time?

“It’s not like that, Fred,” Brian says in a tone that ends the conversation before it’s even begun. Freddie senses he’s touched a nerve.

“Sorry,” he replies, busying himself with collecting the shopping from where it’s strewn all over the floor. “Forget I asked.”

Then he goes into the kitchen, full of more questions than he feels he’s ever going to get the answers to.

* * *

Freddie asks John about it later that day. He can’t control himself, he has to talk to someone about it, and Brian and Roger aren’t an option. They’d disappeared to their room after Freddie walked in on them, only coming out when it was dinner time.

John is already in bed reading a book when Freddie comes into their room. He walks over to the wardrobe to get some clean pyjamas out, and then, as casually as he can, he says, “Did you known Brian knots Roger sometimes?”

John doesn’t look surprised at all. “You found out, then?”

“Yes, I walked in on them - wait, you knew?”

“It was kind of obvious,” John says with a shrug. “They always smell like each other. Not mated smell like each other, but enough to tell that they’re close. And I walked in on them a month or so back.”

“Oh.” Freddie changes into his pyjamas, feeling more confused than ever. Sometimes he hates being a beta. He can’t smell as well as alphas and omegas and it always feels like he’s missing out on some sort of private joke. Not to mention how it’s perfectly acceptable for male alphas and omegas to be together, but god forbid a male beta looks at another. It’s bullshit. Freddie wonders sometimes if he’s like that. He has Mary, and she’s lovely, but sometimes he’ll catch himself staring at someone he shouldn’t and he’ll wonder. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Not missing much there, believe me,” John says. “It’s like watching a pair of teenagers dance around each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“They…” John puts down his book and sits up properly in bed, looking across the room at Freddie. “Right, so you know how alphas will scent omegas when they’re dating or mated, to let other alphas know their omega isn’t available?” Freddie nods. “Scenting can be done deliberately, but it can also happen naturally, mostly in sex due to how close people get.” Freddie nods again. That makes sense. “With Brian and Roger, it’s a bit different because although Brian’s knotting him he doesn’t come inside Roger, so Brian’s scent isn’t quite as pronounced as it could be, but it is still there if you know what to smell for. They do properly scent each other sometimes, but not often. They’re together a lot, I’d bet sleep together most nights, so they do smell like each other, but you can also tell that they’re not together. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of,” Freddie says. He’s also stuck on one of the things John said. “You think they sleep together most nights?”

John nods. “It was ten in the morning when I walked in on them and Roger’s bed hadn’t been slept in.”

“This is so confusing,” Freddie says. “I just don’t understand why they aren’t together properly. Roger said it’s been going on for years, before you and I even joined the band. It’s got to have gone beyond just Brian knotting Roger on bad days, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, it has,” John says. “Roger gave me the most bullshit excuse when I walked in on them. They won’t admit it, though, either of them.”

“Well, we both know now, surely that’s got to count for something.” An idea flits into Freddie’s brain and he grins. “Deaky?”

“Yes?”

“Fiver says they’ll be together by Christmas.”

“I reckon it’ll be longer than that - but alright, you’re on.”

* * *

Now that Freddie knows, it seems all the more obvious. He’s not sure whether it’s because he knows now, so he knows what to look for, or if it’s because everyone in the band knows so Brian and Roger don’t have to worry as much. Either way, he sees how close they are. How Roger will, if they’re not already in their room, always curl up with Brian on the sofa. And in the pub after gigs, he’ll sometimes flirt with some alphas at the bar, but it’s always Brian he sits next to at the table. It’s getting less and less frequent, the whole Roger sleeping with everyone charade. Instead, he’ll spend time with the rest of the band, although mostly with Brian.

They’re practically attached at the hip these days, so it takes Freddie a while to get one of them on their own. He’s got questions. It’s Brian he wants to talk to most, and as luck should have it, they end up being the last ones left in the rehearsal room after practice one day. John has a date, and Roger runs off to the chemist before it shuts to pick up his prescription.

“Do you like him?” Freddie asks, breaking the silence that’s fallen in the practice room since they put down their instruments. Brian pauses, hands hovering over the clasps on his guitar case.

“Who?” he says, far too casually.

Freddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that, darling, we both know damn well who I’m talking about.”

Brian snaps his case shut and straightens up, looking straight at Freddie. “He’s not ready for that,” he says. It sounds kind of forlorn, Freddie realises. Yes, Brian likes Roger, although Freddie knew that anyway, he wanted the confirmation.

“Did he tell you that? How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“You just _do._ What kind of answer is that?”

“I don’t know, Fred, what the fuck do you want me to say? That I’ve been in love with him for years but I can’t say anything because what we do is about him, it’s not about me? That every single time I knot him, I wonder if I’ll ever actually get to do it properly during his heat? That I feel so conflicted every time he sleeps with someone else, because it’s not me he’s fucking, but then it’s me he comes home to and gets to knot him? Is that what you want me to say?”

Brian’s not usually one for outbursts. He usually keeps his alpha side in check; Freddie can count the number of times he’s seen Brian really lose it to his instincts on one hand. So this - this blurt of feelings and the tired, vaguely heartbroken look on Brian’s face - is not quite what Freddie expected.

“Oh, darling.” Freddie sits down on the drum riser, and Brian follows suit. He looks defeated, a truly haunting look etched into his face. Freddie gives Brian’s shoulders a comforting squeeze, and as he gets close, he catches something on Brian’s scent.

It’s Roger, he realises with a start.

Freddie knows that’s not insignificant. The fact that he, a beta, can pick up on Roger’s scent on Brian when they’re not mated is a big deal. They’re close, very close. So close that Freddie’s not surprised that they ended up falling for each other.

“You smell like him,” Freddie says.

Brian looks startled. “You can tell that?” Freddie nods. “Fuck.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted to do to him.”

“Jesus Christ, Fred,” Brian says, but there’s a smile on his face. He doesn’t look quite so forlorn as he did straight after the outburst. “God, we’re a fucking mess, aren’t we?”

“I think that’s putting it lightly, my dear. John says it’s like watching a pair of teenagers. You should tell him how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done.” Brian looks down, twisting a sixpence in between his fingers. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t.

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” Freddie says with a cheeky grin, and Brian laughs.

Yes, Freddie thinks. They’ll be alright.

* * *

Two weeks later, they play a sell-out show in a student union club, and Freddie thinks that this might be it, this might be the night they confess to each other. They keep looking at each other throughout the show, all secretive smiles and melodic harmonies. At the end of the show, Roger comes out from behind the drum kit so they can say their goodbyes to the crowd, and Brian is immediately there, an arm around Roger’s shoulder and ever so gently brushing against Roger’s scent glands. Roger leans into the touch, standing next to Brian with his drum sticks in the air, beaming at the crowd.

It’s been a good one, of their best in a long time.

“Goodnight, my darlings!” Freddie says. “Thank you!”

Once they’re changed and packed up, they head to the pub. Freddie watches as Roger saunters up to the bar, sliding into a gap next to an alpha and giving the guy a practised smile.

“You two get a table,” Freddie says to Brian and John. “I’ll help Roger with the drinks.”

“… don’t do people who are taken,” the guy is saying when Freddie gets to the bar. Roger looks shocked, confused. “Sorry, love.”

“But I’m not -” Roger starts to say, but the guy cuts him off.

“You should tell your alpha that, then, ‘cause his scent’s all over you.”

“Not my alpha,” Roger says quietly as the guy turns to leave, and Freddie doesn’t know who Roger is trying to convince more, himself or the guy. Then, even quieter, so much so that Freddie has to strain to hear it, he adds, “Not yet, anyway.”

“He will be,” Freddie says, taking the gap that the guy vacated. Roger looks a bit dubious, but he smiles anyway. “Talk to him, my dear, we’ll all be better off for it.”

Roger is saved from having to respond by the bartender coming over and taking their drinks order. He looks quiet, contemplative. Freddie feels like the guy calling Brian Roger’s alpha probably rattled him somewhat, highlighted some home truths.

Brian and John have managed to snag a booth. Roger makes a beeline for Brian, sliding onto the seat next to him and invading his personal space. Brian just lets him. If Roger was any closer, he’d be sat on Brian’s lap.

Freddie catches John’s eye and they share a look.

He’s beginning to wonder if they ever will get their act together.

* * *

**v.**

The words from the guy at the bar haunt Roger for the next few days. It’s not the first time someone’s commented on Brian’s scent on him, but it is the first time someone has called Brian his alpha, and that’s what gets to him more than anything else. _You should tell your alpha that, then,_ _‘cause his scent’s all over you._ It’s stupid because he knows deep down that it’s going to be him and Brian against the world from now until eternity. No matter what happens with the band, he knows that he’ll always have Brian.

Of course, Brian knows him so well at this point that his silence doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You alright?” Brian asks. It’s three days after the incident, and they’re lying on Brian’s bed together in a tangle of limbs and each other’s clothes. Brian has his arms loosely looped around Roger’s waist, and they’re both lying there not doing an awful lot, staring at the ceiling.

“Just thinking,” Roger says.

“What about?”

“Things.” Roger moves so he can scent Brian, breathing in the comforting smell that feels so much like home at the base of his neck. Brian scents him back, gently licking at Roger’s scent glands. Ever since he let Brian do it after his heat that time, they’ve felt all that much closer.

“What like?”

“You knotting me.” It’s not a lie, not really. It’s getting late in the evening and he’s honestly forgotten what it’s like to fall asleep without Brian’s knot in him. But he wants more. He wants a relationship, even if it’s not all that different from what they have now anyway. He wants to be able to kiss Brian and have him knot him without having to come up with some pathetic excuse.

“Oh, yeah?” Brian’s hands move down, past the waistband of Roger’s boxers, circling his hole. Roger can feel his slick starting to build up as Brian slowly inserts the first finger. “How does that go?”

“Fuck, Bri,” Roger whines as Brian starts to move his finger and quickly adds a second. “Keep going.”

Brian does just that, slowly stretching him. Roger looks at Brian, and they’re both clearly aroused, not wanting to lose contact with each other for one second. Roger looks at Brian, and their eyes meet for a moment, and oh god he wants to kiss him so badly. But he can’t. Instead, he sneaks his hand past Brian’s waistband, pushing his boxers down and starts jerking him off. Brian feels hot and heavy in his hand, and he wonders what it would feel like in his mouth, on his tongue. His mouth waters at the thought of Brian’s cock being in him before long. He can’t wait.

“How do you want to -” Brian starts to ask, and Roger responds by pushing his boxers all the way and climbing on top of Brian so he’s straddling him. He still wants to kiss him, but he can’t, and it feels like it’s killing him.

“Want to see you,” Roger says. Brian nods. He looks up at Roger as he slowly pushes the head of his cock into Roger’s tight hole. When Roger’s fully seated on Brian’s dick, he lets out a contented moan, he can’t help it. Usually, Brian’s already about to knot when he puts his dick into Roger, but today, he’s not quite there. Roger moves up and down a few times, riding him, and it’s only then that Brian’s knot starts to swell and catch on the rim of Roger’s hole.

It’s one of those times that the line between sex and comfort knotting isn’t just blurred, it’s nonexistent. Roger can’t say he complains.

As Brian’s knot locks them together, Roger looks down at him and wonders if he’s ever going the have the courage to tell Brian how he feels.

* * *

Somewhere in the next few weeks, the lines blur even more. Brian’s fucking him every night, knotting him and always stopping just short of coming inside Roger, but they don’t talk about it. There have been several occasions when Roger has nearly blurted out something stupid like “I love you” during one of their sessions, but he’s always able to stop himself just in time. He bites his lip or scents Brian, and it doesn’t make the ache go away, but it does make it less prominent.

It’s fine until it’s not.

It’s a Tuesday when it happens.

Roger hasn’t even had that bad of a day, but it’s a habit at this point to slip into Brian’s bed when night falls. His own hasn’t been slept in for weeks, but perhaps more significantly, he hasn’t spent any time in anyone else’s either. He doesn’t miss it. He’s starting to feel more and more like Brian is everything he needs.

Brian’s already hard when Roger slides into bed, and he wastes no time in making sure Roger is properly stretched. When they’re knotted together, everything is fine for a moment, the familiar feeling of comfort and safety filling Roger, but then -

“Oh, fuck,” Brian swears. “Fucking hell.”

Roger’s eyes go wide. He freezes. He can feel Brian coming inside him, continuous streams from his pulsing knot. He tries not to freak out, but that’s easier said than done. “Are you joking?”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Rog -”

“Can’t you stop?”

“No,” Brian says miserably. “Sorry.”

In all the times they’ve done this before, Brian’s never come inside him. Roger isn’t sure how he feels about it. He’s panicked, slightly, because although he’s on suppressants there’s always that small chance he’s the awkward one, the one in a thousand chance or whatever that ends up pregnant anyway. He’s already thinking about what time the chemist opens in the morning so he can check if he needs the morning after pill.

“How?” Roger finds himself asking. Then, perhaps more aptly, “Why?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Brian mutters. “Guess I was more turned on than usual or something.”

It’s bullshit, and they both know it. They both know how. They both know why. Roger avoids Brian’s eyes, and it’s like he’s avoiding the inevitable. When the panic subsides, it’s replaced by the familiar feeling of comfort, except this time he feels safer in Brian’s arms.

He has to tell him.

* * *

**vi.**

The next morning, Roger wakes up feeling happy, but also mildly worried. He’s up and showered and out of the flat before Brian has even woken up. The chemist opens early, and there’s an old beta lady on the counter. He half expects judgement from her, but she turns out to be lovely. He explains his situation and she smiles and tells him that no, it’s fine, he doesn’t need the morning after pill, but they do sell knotting condoms if that’s something he’d be interested in? He almost says no - knotting condoms are expensive and a luxury he can’t afford right now - before changing his mind at the last minute. If he splits the cost with Brian, it’s not too bad.

Brian is just waking up when Roger gets back to the flat. He’s getting out of bed as Roger pushes the door to their room open. He frowns at Roger being already dressed and the paper bag from the chemist in his hand.

“Where have you been?” Brian asks.

“Chemist,” Roger replies. He chucks the bag on the bed and Brian picks it up, peering at the contents. He gives Roger a questioning look. “Don’t want a repeat. You owe me for those, by the way.”

“We don’t have to carry on,” Brian says. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Roger says quietly. “That’s the last thing I am around you, believe me. I don’t want to stop at all.”

“What are you saying?”

There’s a beat. Fuck, is he doing this? It’s about time, though. More than, really. “I like you, Bri,” he says. “Like, I really fucking like you. Nothing compares to how I feel when I’m with you and I don’t want to stop.”

“Rog,” Brian says, quiet, but it makes Roger look up, across the room, where Brian is standing looking the happiest Roger has seen him in a long time. “I like you too.”

It feels so good finally hearing Brian say those words. Roger can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, and he crosses the room, throwing his arms around Brian and losing himself in the scent that feels so much like home. And it is home, now.

Brian hugs him back, scenting him. Then one hand moves up to cup his chin, and they look at each other right in the eyes for a moment or two. It feels so intimate, and just when Roger thinks it can’t get any better, Brian asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“God, yes.”

Then Brian kisses him, and it’s everything Roger ever dreamed of and more.

He feels like he belongs.

* * *

Later, Freddie knocks on Brian and Roger’s door, to ask if they want any lunch. When he doesn’t get any response, he pushes open the door anyway and sees them lying together on Brian’s bed. They’re thankfully covered by a sheet, but Freddie can tell that they’re naked, and that’s an open box of knotting condoms on the bedside table. Roger is half asleep on Brian’s chest in a post-coital haze, and Freddie is sure he’s never seen two people look so in love.

“What’s this?” he asks. “Finally got your acts together, did you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Brian says, and then, as casually as he can, presses a kiss onto the top of Roger’s head. “Isn’t that right, Rog?”

“Mmm.”

Freddie grins. “Finally! Oh, I’m so happy for you two. Hey, Deaky? Deaky!”

“Yeah?” John says, appearing from his and Freddie’s bedroom door. “What?”

“Come here, look at this.”

John frowns and walks down to Brian and Roger’s room, standing next to Freddie in the doorway.

“I believe you owe me some money, my dear,” Freddie says.

John stares at Brian and Roger together on the bed. “No,” he says. “Shit, I really thought I was going to win that one.”

“You were betting on us?” Roger asks.

“Oh, don’t take it personally darling, it was only a bit of fun,” Freddie says. “I said you’d get your act together before Christmas and John said no, it wouldn’t be until the new year.”

“I’m happy for you, though,” John says, smiling at his friends. They look so content, so in love, and it feels like the dark cloud of will they, won’t they has finally been lifted from the flat. “Come on, Fred, let’s leave them to it.”

They close the door, retreating into the living area. On the other side, Roger moves to kiss Brian. He loves the feeling of the alpha’s lips against his own. He’s not sure how he’s gone so long without kissing Brian before now.

“Love you,” he mumbles against Brian’s lips. It should be too soon, they’ve barely been properly together for five minutes, but it’s been a long time coming. He’s known how he feels for a while, and it feels so good to finally say it.

“Love you too,” Brian replies. He kisses Roger again, and it’s so perfect. Brian never thought he’d see the day when he’d be telling Roger Taylor he loved him, and yet, here he is, doing exactly that. He can take care of Roger properly now, and he loves that more than anything. Roger fits so well in his arms; like he was made to be there.

They belong.


End file.
